


Everywhere, always

by SoManyJacks



Series: Where did all these nugs come from? [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Praise Kink, mention of past dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:31:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyJacks/pseuds/SoManyJacks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bull pulls Dorian aside from a state dinner for some quality time in a broom closet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everywhere, always

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after [Words Fail.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3987106/chapters/8950936) A bit of drabble and praise kink! Mention of previous not-so-wonderful shameful sex experience for Dorian, so heads up there.
> 
> Updated for typos!

A lifetime of court training was all that kept Dorian from yawning at the table. He did, however, permit himself a heavy, closed-mouth sigh that left his eyes watering. At the head of the Banquet table, the Rivaini Ambassador droned on, heaping accolades on Vira Lavellan, her inner circle, and her advisors in effusive, if monotone, praise.

These state banquets had grown more and more tiresome. After Inquisitor Lavellan defeated Corypheus, leaders from all over Thedas clamored to visit Skyhold. It seemed every week they crammed into the Great Hall to accept the thanks of some ambassador or other. It wasn’t all bad. King Alistair had come personally, though Anora had stayed home. No surprise there. That had been quite a fun night, actually. There were no speeches, for one thing, just eating and drinking and dancing and stories. Lots of stories. Dorian seemed to recall a somewhat glaring absence of Vira and Cullen at around the same time that the King had taken his leave. These ex-Chantry types were just full of surprises. Dirty, _dirty_ surprises.

But mostly, the banquets were dreadful. As this one was turning out to be. Not all the other guests of honor were as able to keep their composure through this particular address. Josephine, obviously, had no problem whatsoever. Vira blinked a lot, with a kind of wide-eyed vacancy that indicated her mind was definitely not on the ambassador’s words. Commander Cullen alternated between slouching and jerking back to attention. Dorian wondered if he’d perhaps picked up the trick of falling asleep with his eyes open.

Further down the table, Cole was attempting to spear individual peas on his plate with his fork, sending little green projectiles in every direction. Where he’d gotten the peas was a mystery; the food hadn’t been served yet. Sera yawned openly, while Blackwall drummed his fingers on the table, holding his chin up with his hand. Varric and Cassandra had pleasant, slightly vacant smiles, which seemed a bit strange, until Dorian realized their hands were under the table and they were sitting slightly too close for polite society.

Bull, meanwhile, was sitting across the table from Dorian. He was facing the speaker, turned in his chair, his blind side towards the table. Dorian studied the profile through the flickering of the candelabra. Bull’s horns shone slightly in the golden light of the candles. He’d used the horn balm Dorian had given him.

As if sensing the scrutiny, Bull turned and smiled at him. There was so much in that expression - _can you believe this guy, you look amazing, can’t wait to fuck you later, kadan._ Dorian smiled back at him, maintaining eye contact, daring Bull to look away.

Dorian never won this game, though he instigated it more often than not. It was the kind of game where even the losers win. Bull turned, pulling his chair in to close the distance across the narrow table. Though the smile faded, a hint remained around the corner of his mouth. He rested both elbows on the table and stared at Dorian, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

Dorian raised an eyebrow and gave the slightest tilt of his head. He decided to raise the stakes. Without breaking eye contact he slid off one of his shoes. Casually, as if he was merely stretching, he leaned back in his chair, bringing his stockinged foot up to graze alongside the inside of Bull’s calf and thigh.

Bull, predictably, gave only the barest hint of a response. His smile widened, but that was it. Dorian’s toes inched further, further, goaded now by Bull’s frankly lusty stare.

Too late, Dorian felt the itch in his nose. He sneezed, losing control of his foot in the process.

Bull gave a strangled, telling grunt of pain. Dorian bit his lip and closed his eyes, willing the laughter coursing silently through him to recede before anyone noticed.

Sera’s throaty giggle indicated his effort had been wasted. “You findin’ a way to warm those cold footsies, yeah?” She elbowed Dorian, exaggerating the move. By now Blackwall was snickering, Cassandra and Cole looked confused, and Varric had his buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

Luckily, no one else at the head of the table seemed to notice, and the ambassador wrapped up his speech. There was a smattering of polite applause and then the servants descended on them with the first course.

“What is this, again?” Cullen muttered to Dorian, poking at the leaves on his plate. It had become the custom for visiting dignitaries to bring the delicacies of their homeland. Rivaini food was clearly not something Cullen was familiar with.

“It’s called a ‘salad’.” Dorian said calmly. “Rocket, red leaf, frisee, endive,” he said, pointing at the various greens.

“But, it’s not cooked,” Cullen frowned.

“You eat raw fruit for breakfast every day,” Bull noted.

“But this is leaves....”

“Vira likes it,” Dorian noted, looking down to the head of the table. The Inquisitor was barely on the right side of polite with her table manners for this course, shoving the salad into her mouth as quickly as she could without calling attention to herself. She was from the northern Marches, after all; this must’ve been quite close to the type of food she ate on a regular basis back home.

“It’s quite good, innit?” Sera said after a tentative mouthful. Dorian did her the favor of not pointing out that she was enjoying an ‘elfy’ dish.

The meal continued, five courses of it. Finally, the plates were cleared. Thank the Maker.

Though of course, they weren’t allowed to leave. Not quite yet. There was some sort of entertainment planned. There always was. A group of musicians were tuning up by the fireplace.

Somehow, in the general commotion between ending the meal and getting settled to ‘enjoy’ the recital, Bull went missing. Dorian grumbled a bit and took a seat towards the back. It was common for one or two members of the inner circle to go astray during the course of the evening, though it was frowned upon. The trick was sneaking out without anyone noticing.

The music began. Dorian assembled his face into an expression of polite appreciation. He really, really wanted to be tied up somewhere with Bull, not listening to a fiddler saw out Rivaini folk tunes.

After two songs, a servant approached him with a note on a tray. “Broom closet” was all it said.

“Something important?” Blackwall asked.

“Er, yes, terribly. I must go at once. Please excuse me.” Dorian said, hoping it was remotely convincing. Varric’s derisive snort told him it was not. Well, too bad.

Dorian made his way out of the Great Hall, through the side hall to a small antechamber. It was, strictly speaking, a bit larger than a closet. It was also occupied by the Iron Bull.

“I got your note,” Dorian drawled, closing the door behind him. “This is a bit unusual for you, isn’t it? Why not meet in your quarters?”

“Because I want you _here,_ kadan,” Bull said, pulling him close. He ran a finger down Dorian’s cheek so gently the mage shivered. “Anyway, I thought you used to do this all the time.”

“Yes, but...” Dorian frowned slightly. He’d told Bull about his experiences in Tevinter, most recently with Antonius, an older man who had a predilection for taking Dorian into coatrooms to have his way with him. He’d also whisper words that Dorian would come to realize were poison: _filth, depraved, sinner._ Dorian shuddered, remembering the sour way lust conflated with shame. It wasn’t until he met Bull that he realized that terrible feeling wasn’t just a normal part of sex.

“But what?” Bull asked, intent.

“It’s... not the type of experience I’m terribly eager to reenact.” Dorian said. He backed a step away from Bull, putting space between them.

“And why’s that, kadan?”

Dorian hesitated. The last time he’d thought about Antonius during an intimate moment was also the only time he’d ever said katoh, something Bull knew full well. “Amatus, I’m not sure I understand what you’re trying to do, here.”

“I just want to talk,” Bull said. “I talk, you listen. You can always stop me. _Always_. You know that.”

Dorian narrowed his eyes. “Alright,” he said tentatively. “Talk.”

Bull didn’t start talking, not right away. First, he circled Dorian slowly, possessively. “You are incredible, you know that? My kadan. I watched you all night, pretty mage. Everything about you is fucking amazing.”

Dorian snorted. “Including the part that accidentally kicked you in the balls tonight?”

Bull rushed him, somehow pushing and lifting Dorian so that he was against the wall in the blink of an eye. Dorian fought for breath at the sudden shock of the movement.

Bull fixed him with a steady gaze. _“Listen,_ kadan.” It was not so much a command as a plea.

Dorian was trembling. He nodded once, unsure.

“Good,” Bull said.

He let go of Dorian, but then rested his forearms on the wall on either side of the mage’s head. It was a confining, dominating posture. For some reason Dorian couldn’t quite place, it made him uncomfortable. Not because he was afraid in any way; he knew full well Bull would stop whatever he was doing before Dorian got to the “-oh” in katoh. Failing that, Dorian was also confident that he could halt Bull in his tracks by means of magic - he’d done so before. No, Dorian’s discomfort lay in not knowing why he was uncomfortable at all. In the past, Bull had literally tied him up until he couldn’t move an inch, yet somehow Dorian felt more confined now than he had since their first encounter.

Before he could ponder it further, Bull was speaking again. “You’re fucking amazing, kadan, and nothing you say can change that. Nothing you _think_ can change that. Nothing anyone else has ever _said_ can change the fact that you are magnificent, perfect. It’s a fact. And you’re not just perfect, you’re perfect for _me,_ Dorian.”

Well now. Bull was always effusive in his praise, and Dorian never tired of it. Usually, though, they were naked and hard. This felt a bit different.

“First time I saw you, I knew you were something. Some _one._ And then,” Bull shook his head, lost in memory, “when you strutted into the practice ring to spar with me....” He leaned down, drawing his face from just above Dorian’s shoulder, up his neck to the top of his head, breathing deep without touching him. “Fuck. I knew you were like no other, little one. So much courage. So much _power.”_

Dorian felt a part of himself starting to melt, something in between his stomach and his heart. Well, possibly closer to his heart. He sighed, relaxing just a bit.

“That’s right, little one. I knew you were amazing from the start. And even if none of this had ever happened, even if I’d never gotten to touch you, to taste you, to smell you, you’d still be fucking incredible. I’d still want you, no matter what. I’d still... _need_ you.”

Dorian’s breath came fast in his throat. _Want_ was one thing. _Need_ was another. To even hear the word coming from Bull was intoxicating.

“You don’t know it, kadan, because you’ve never seen yourself when it happens. I’m gonna buy a huge mirror in Orlais, just so you can watch,” Bull said.

“Watch what?” Dorian whispered.

“Watch yourself come undone. Oh, my little kadan, it’s like looking into the sun. Fucking glorious. Beautiful. I don’t believe in your Maker. I don’t give two shits about Andraste. But the light in your eyes when you surrender to me is holier than any blessed flame I’ve ever seen.” Bull was leaning over so that he could meet Dorian’s gaze, his forearms still on the wall behind the mage. By now Bull’s hips were rocking a bit, as if his body was eager to take Dorian.

The mage was trembling now, breathing hard. “Why... why are you....” He shook his head, overwhelmed between lust and some other emotion he couldn’t identify.

“Why am I telling you this? Because it’s true, for one. And because you’re _mine,_ Dorian. That asshole back in Tevinter can’t have any part of you. I won’t let him. I want _all_ of you, kadan. And I want you everywhere. Even here, in this little closet. I want to fuck you so hard, fill you so full of truth that there’s no room for whatever poison you’ve been fed.” Bull’s voice was ragged with need. “What do you say to that, little one?”

“Yes,” Dorian gasped.

With lightning speed, Bull flipped Dorian around to face the wall. Before he could react, Bull had yanked down his trousers and smalls, letting them fall around his ankles. He kicked Dorian’s feet aside. “Hands on the wall, pretty mage.”

Dorian’s cock twitched at the command. He did as he was told, a soft moan leaving his lips as he heard the sound of a vial of oil being opened.

Bull chuckled. “You want this, little one?” A finger began a slick journey to his entrance.

“Yes,” Dorian breathed, resting his forehead against the cool stone. He bucked back on to Bull’s finger as best he could.

The grunt of appreciation Bull gave sent another pulse to Dorian’s cock, bobbing inches from the stone. Bull brought his other hand around and began to stroke lightly, teasing touches that set the mage to hissing.

Another finger, stretching him. Dorian could feel Bull’s length now, brushing against his hip. He turned his head to look up at the Qunari. “Can I... can I touch....” The remainder of the request was lost in a groan as a third finger was added.

“Yes, kadan. You can touch me,” Bull said, his gaze intense.

Dorian reached down. The angle was bad and his hand was dry, but he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as his fingers traced the hard length.

“Mmm, that's good, little one. Get me nice and hard before I fuck you,” Bull grunted. “Hold out your hand.”

Bull drizzled a bit of oil into the Dorian’s palm, then shifted his bulk to the side to allow the mage better access.

Dorian’s hand swirled and stroked, pumping Bull’s cock in time to the fingers in his ass. Soon the Qunari’s breath was coming fast. “That’s so good, pretty mage. Can’t wait to fuck this ass. Are you ready? Are you ready for me?”

“Please, yes,” Dorian panted.

“Hands on the wall,” Bull said, positioning himself behind Dorian.

There was a moment of emptiness, and then Bull was pushing into him, slow, steady, just quick enough that Dorian struggled a bit to keep up. “That’s it, kadan. You take it so good. So perfect. Fuck, it’s all I’ve been thinking about all night,” Bull said, pulling almost all the way out in the same slow rhythm. “Just imagining taking you like this, slow and open, feeling you taking me.”

The pace was glacial; Dorian could feel every ripple and ridge on Bull’s cock as it moved in him. He wanted more but it was just so good.

Bull appeared to agree. “So good,” he growled. And then he changed his angle slightly, and Dorian shouted in pleasure, snapping his head backwards, arching his back.

“So beautiful.” Bull hilted himself and held steady, his breath hot against Dorian’s hair. “Gonna make you mine, little one.”

Dorian nodded, pushing himself back on to Bull as if he could give more of himself to the Qunari. Bull grunted before pulling back slightly. His next thrust was hard, jolting through Dorian.

“Yes, Bull. Please,” Dorian moaned.

Then the thrusts came quicker as Bull’s hips snapped into Dorian. “Fuck, _yes_ ,” the Qunari said, his hands holding Dorian’s hips steady. Within just a few moments, Bull was shouting his release, erupting into Dorian.

It being a storage closet, clean cloths were handy. Bull tenderly cleaned Dorian up, planting kisses on the trembling mage’s back. It felt wonderful, but Dorian couldn’t help but moan as the cloth brushed his balls. He was aching now, hips jutting into empty air.

“Little one. Turn around,” Bull said.

Dorian did as he was asked, stretching his back slightly. Bull was sitting on a small stool. He patted his lap. “Sit.”

Had Dorian been slightly less out of his mind with lust, he would’ve laughed. As it was, he simply sat across Bull’s legs and looped an arm around the man’s neck.

Bull began to stroke his cock lightly with his still-slick fingers. “Look at me, kadan. I want to see you. I _need_ to see you.”

Dorian whimpered. Bull’s touch was too light to provide release, despite how badly Dorian wanted it.

“Are you close, little one? Tell me.”

Dorian hissed and nodded, struggling to maintain eye contact. “Yes,” he managed, finally. He was right on the edge.

“Mmmm, that's it. Oh, right there. There it is. Fuck, it’s gorgeous.” The wonder on Bull’s face made Dorian’s heart stutter.

Maddeningly, Bull lightened his stroke even more, now running a single finger on the underside of Dorian’s cock. Dorian whined, his hips making small motions.

“Oh, little one, my little one, you are so. fucking. gorgeous.” Bull said.

“Fuck,” Dorian gasped, as Bull pulled his hand away entirely, just as the pulsing began, leaving him straining and twitching.

“Yes, kadan. That's it. You’re going to come for me, little one. You’re going to come just from my words. That's it. Come on, let me see you. Let me see you. Come for me, Dorian.”

The throb seemed to come from deep inside him, a wave of almost painful pleasure as Bull’s words pulled the orgasm from his body. Dorian shouted, his hips bucking upwards wildly as he spurted on himself, his eyes wide with panic as his body desperately tried to find purchase against empty air. Bull caught him, holding his juddering body as the aftershocks wracked through him. “Mine,” he whispered into Dorian’s hair. “And I’m yours, kadan. Everywhere. Always.”

 

 


End file.
